Fever Talking
by Just Call Me A
Summary: His fever really needs to stop making him think and say things.


It is a warm summer day when she came by, looking bedraggled with soil on her rich, inked skin and every part of her tussled, ruffled clothing, but somehow she manages to make it seem artfully placed and Raeger wonders if she wakes up each morning and paints soil on her skin deliberately to look just perfectly - _model-y_.

She could be, though, if she wants to. Be a model, that is. She is a hair short from reaching the top of his head, and it is strange to not look down whenever talking to another woman.

And she's not. She's not like other women who came to his restaurant to fawn over him. Nor like his other girlfriends who couldn't lift a finger to till land, or to dig in the earth to harvest crates and crates of turnips and carry them on one hand.

That doesn't stop him from imagining them. Together. The perfect combination. A farmer and a chef. Him and her. Kissing. Holding her calloused hands, tough but with a touch of care, dragging across his body, warm -

"Raeger? You look flushed, are you alright?" Raeger blinks, swallowing his thoughts. She is bent over the counter, face a smidge apart from his. Her silver eyes startles him, being so close to his. He leans in a bit, itching to get a taste of her lips, maybe get some tongue action a little if she would allow it.

"Goddess, Raeger, you're burning!" A pair of cool hands are on his neck, waking him from his dizzy haze.

"Huh, Oh... welcome. Sorry, I'm just feeling a little dizzy, is all," He says, shaking his head, which makes him even more lightheaded.

"How about you get some rest, Rae?" She chides him, using that cute little nickname she has for him. It might have been thrown around and used with every girl, but hers seem a lot more special. It could be his fever talking, though.

"No, I'm fine. I'll get over it soon. Anyway, what can I get for you?" She purses her lips, making him want to cry because why hide those slightly chapped lips, perfect for kissing? There is a moment of battle of wills between her and his stubborn head before she says,

"Fried rice." Raeger frowns for a moment. She usually gets a bigger meal than that due to the fact that she works in a farm. He doesn't question it and begins honing his knife. Every step is slower, with his vision doubling and his body slugging across the floor. With much effort, he manages to plate and serve it the way he does it usually.

There is one problem, though.

"This is curry rice." Her tone is flat and slightly expectant. She had been watching the whole time and she didn't tell him anything!

"Ah! That's right! You ordered fried rice, not curry rice!" He smiles instead, "I'm so sorry. I'll go remake it for you." He runs behind the kitchen counter when another dizzy spell hits him.

"Raeger!" He could hear the screech of the chair over the ground and the clatter of utensils when she runs over to him in a hurry. Her hand is cold on his back, and it makes him shiver in response.

"No. I'm fine, it'll only be a minute." He holds his hand up as he gathers his bearings. He swallows drily and exhales, expelling all his sickness with it - or that's what he likes to think. It makes him feel a little better, so he stands back up (and he didn't even realize he had been bent over.)

"Fine, if you're going to be so stubborn at least let me help," she says. God, she looks beautiful when she is angry. Is life for her a photoshoot everyday?

"I'm glad for the offer, but it's not right to make my customers do my work for me." Raeger could see the exasperation on her face at his hardheadedness as he takes another order from a customer. Finally fed up, she marches to him and takes over taking orders, nudging him towards the kitchen. Raeger reluctantly relents, not wanting to make a scene in the restaurant.

Together they work seamlessly. Like a married couple. With her handling orders, twisting and turning with trays on her hands and greeting customers with her brilliant smile while he mans the kitchen. Something funny bubbles up his stomach as he watches her take an order, asking the customer if it's to-go or dine-in.

* * *

"Whew, that's the last customer," He sighs, wiping the counter. She comes up to him silently and brushes his hair back. The funny feeling is back again, creeping up his chest and climbing up to his cheeks and it makes him feel lightheaded.

"Well, you don't feel any better than earlier," she mumbles. She catches the red on his cheeks and purses her lips.

"Thank you for your help, I... oughta... pay you..." With that, everything went black.

"Raeger?! Oh, Jesus - am I allowed to say that? Oh, Goddess, Lord, Buddha, Rhaeger." She kneeled over his figure, taking an arm over her shoulder and slipping hers over his back.

* * *

Raeger moans, waking up to soft sheets and a pounding in his head, "Huh, where am I?" He asks, rubbing his bleary eyes.

"You collapsed," a voice says gently to his right. He tries to sit up to see whoever it is, when two calloused hands pushes him back down and tugs the blanket back up. A cold towel presses onto his forehead and he notices that his tie and vest are gone.

"Oh, it's you," he sighs in relief, seeing her visage enter his view. "I hope I didn't worry you too much."

"Oh, I kind of expected it, you pig head." She grins, but there is still discomfort in her eyes, and Raeger felt comforted that he could affect her like that.

"What time is it?" He turns his head and squints at the wall clock, vision still a bit blurry.

"It's twelve in the evening," she replies.

"Did you stay here with me the whole time?" He asks her, heart beating suddenly fast. She takes the towel from his forehead and washes it in a bucket at the foot of the bed. He is struck with awe when she wipes his neck and places it back on his head.

"Well, I had to run back to the farm a little bit to put the animals back, but yeah, why?"

"It's just..." Raeger feels his words get stuck in his throat. "...It's been a long time since someone stayed by my bedside when I got sick. My parents got divorced when I was little and my Mom brought me here to stay with her dad. But both Mom and Grandpa were always really busy with work, so neither of them had the time to sit with me when I was sick.

"Besides, I didn't want to bother either of them, so I usually wouldn't even tell them how I was feeling. So it's been forever since I've had someone worried enough to stay by my side till I got better... sorry, I must be rambling," And his fever needs to stop talking now, please.

"When I was younger, my mother," she starts. It's clear it is hard for her to talk because of the way the corner of her eyes tightened, "she would doodle a little virus on the palm of my hand, and every time she would wipe my body, it would fade a little."

She laughs, but there is bitterness in it.

"She said that it was the virus leaving my body and I believed her until seventh grade. Then, she left us and the rest is history." She smiled at him, with more intent this time. "I mean, I get what you're saying. Being cared for is the best feeling in the world."

They stare at each other, silence engulfing the room.

"Hey, um..." He speaks, twisting the sheets between his fingers, "Could you, um, stay here with me a little longer? I, uh, the virus hasn't left my body just yet. I want to rest a little more before I start getting ready for tomorrow. If you could stay just that long..."

She brushes his hair back, grinning. "Why not?"

Raeger knows little about genuine affection, but maybe - just maybe this is what it feels like.


End file.
